Nightblindness
by PigletandPooh
Summary: It was the most bittersweet pain imaginable. Her smiles and laughter danced across his head as soon as he closed his eyes and faded as soon as they opened. The reunion was never long enough, and yet too long. Always just long enough for him to remember, to come to his senses and realise his dreams were an impossibility. Just long enough to say goodbye.


"Get up." She mumbled, swatting his heavy arm off her with a vague smack before rolling over and shutting her eyes again. "It's definitely James. Everyone else understands personal boundaries."

Sirius chuckled softly, breathing in the warm scent of her skin and revelling in the feel of her pressed against him. Ignoring her soft protests he squeezed her closer, going nowhere and doing nothing about stopping the persistent knocks of their shared apartment. He couldn't remember why, but Marlene was going somewhere for a while. In his sleepy state, he registered that this was their last day before… something. He should probably get up and tell James to fuck off before he caused an argument and ruined their day. It was undoubtedly James anyways. No one else would call at six in the morning. He was like a hyperactive child, even more so since he didn't have Quidditch to pour his energy into.

"Are you sure you want me to go?" He nuzzled her neck, kissing her gently and was rewarded with a slight hitch in her breath.

"Mnnnn not sure." She breathed.

"Oh?"

There was a hint of challenge in his tone as he rolled her over forcefully, pinning her beneath him and determinedly kissing her through her gales of laughter. Her squeals and wriggles did nothing but spur him on, until eventually, she was returning his enthusiasm with even more vigour; both of them heated and lost in the moment as the sheets tangled around them and clothes were disbanded. That was until-

"OI! I can hear you in there! Hurry up and answer Padfoot! It's IMPORTANT!"

Sirius pulled away from Marlene with a disgusted growl, his eyes flicking impatiently to the door of the bedroom and back to his bemused girlfriend. She sighed dramatically, a wry grin on her face as she kicked him off her and towards the door.

"Fine! Go see what he wants." She smirked at him from her pillow. "But then come back, yeah?"

He grinned devilishly before tugging on his sweats and padding to the door. There was something right about this morning. As if something that was missing had been… replaced. He couldn't put his finger on it. He jogged lightly through the apartment, already thinking of ways he could get rid of James quickly and get back to his more than willing girlfriend in bed. His eyes drifted absently over the photographs that littered the room, pausing as he saw one he didn't quite recognise. Him and Marlene in Paris. Trust Marlene to have a photo of them when he didn't even remember one being taken.

But then… he didn't remember ever being in Paris?

That was his first clue. The inklings of doubt had crept in like cool drops of water, but a soft voice called him back to reality. To _this reality_. Focusing him on the present and distracting him a disconcerting idea that had only half begun to form before the sound of her voice shattered it.

"Is he gone?"

Draped in one of his old shirts, Marlene stood in the doorway of their room, eyeing him coyly as his eyes raked over her bare legs. Biting his lip, he shook his head; returning the photo to it's stand on the table and quickly walking to the door.

"Two minutes." He called over his shoulder.

She laughed, already retreating into the darkness of the room.

"Seriously Marlene- two minutes. Don't fucking go to sleep."

Her answering laugh was all he got by way of response. Fuck Prongs! He really did have the worst fucking timing! Why couldn't he stick to regular visiting hours like anyone else-?

But swinging the door open quickly; it wasn't the amused face of James that greeted him. It was someone totally different. But weirdly familiar- like something out of a life long forgotten. That moustache- so groomed and proper. That suit; so sleek and neat. That weird little briefcase.

Where did he know him from?

And it had definitely been James's voice he'd heard calling him, he'd even called him Padfoot-

"Mr Black, I regret to inform you of the death of Marlene McKinnon. She was murdered last night at the hands of Lord Voldemort's followers-"

His words droned on but Sirius didn't quite catch them. The words that managed to penetrate his shock were incomprehensible. Marlene was dead? Murdered last night? Impossible. She was with him. She was in that room, just beyond the sofa. Living, breathing and waiting- and hopefully awake. Denial swelled like a wave him, overpowering and all consuming. Yet in the back of his mind, in the tiniest recess of his heart, in that small part of your subconscious that realises you're dreaming; he knew it was true.

It was too confusing.

He took a step back from this man in shock, but the visitor took no heed. He continued in his monotonous voice, as if reciting from some hand book of what to say to the recently bereaved. His eyes stared past Sirius, unseeing and uncaring.

And so, numb and lost and confused, Sirius turned to face back to his bedroom. He was unsurprised to see Marlene had emerged and was wearing a small innocent smile on her face as she stood in the centre of the sitting room. "What is it? What did he say?"

Sirius shut the door on the man in the suit. Abrupt silence came from without and Sirius knew without knowing that the man was gone. If he thought about _how_ he knew, his head hurt and it all became too dizzy. So he just accepted it.

"He said you're dead. That you were murdered." He echoed numbly, watching her face. It couldn't be true. Look at her, he willed himself. The plush of her lips, the gentle curl of her hair, the colour of her eyes, the curve of her smile- she's real. She's here. Marlene can't be gone. It's nonsensical.

And yet. Something niggled at him.

She gave a tinkling laugh, walking to him and kissing him softly; wrapping her small arms around him.

"I'm here aren't I? I'm not leaving you, stupid."

He stayed statue like in her arms; wanting to believe, but as each second went by- he was more convinced. Marlene was dead. He was dreaming.

"No." His voice was hoarse now. "No, you're not here. You die Marls."

She shook her head simply. Her smile had faded, but her eyes were trusting.

"You save me." The complete surety of her words nearly broke him in two.

"No. I don't. I can't- I- I couldn't-"

"Save me."

"I can't." He whispered.

"I can't."

* * *

><p>He woke at the sound of his own voice, the room empty and dark and his sheets strewn around him, covered in sweat. Reaching for his wand wearily, he saw it was three o'clock in the morning. Reluctantly, he shone the light on the space in the bed beside him, where the dream-Marlene had lain only minutes ago.<p>

It was empty.


End file.
